The Conspiracy
by Adventuress
Summary: Elaan Tabris could never truly understand the phrase "artificial hero" until she became one. Two years after defeat of the Blight, Elaan tries to put the past behind her and live for the future. She comes to find it’s rarely as easy as it seems...


**_A/N: _**I've had the idea for this story circling around in my head for a few days now so I figured I should go ahead and let it out. Some things aren't fully explained or are cloaked in mystery and I've purposefully set the chapter up this way. Hopefully the next few chapters will give out a few more details to string you along with information. After all, what fun is it to reveal everything in one read? Constructive criticism is always welcome. Enjoy.

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_The Conspiracy_

A deafening roar of thunder was all it took to rouse Elaan from her restless slumber. Her sleep-filled gaze drifted to the window closest to her bed. She was slightly surprised to note the heavy rain that pattered relentlessly against the reinforced glass window a few feet from her. Usually storms this violent kept her up at night, pacing the cold stone floor in her room with agitated apprehension.

She sat up awkwardly in bed, allowing her fingers to drift through her dark and sweaty mane for a few moments as she contemplated on trying to get back to sleep. She reluctantly jerked as another loud rumble echoed from outside her window. She shook her head defeatidly. She knew she wouldn't be able to sleep with a storm roaring about her. She never could.

She rose slowly from the warm covers at first by allowing her legs to dangle freely into the cool air of the room. The sudden change in temperature on her skin left small goose bumps trailing up her slender legs. A moment later they found nape of her neck, allowing a delightful shiver to overtake her senses. Elaan's cold blue eyes looked on as the last of the dying embers made love to the rotting timber in the worn fireplace; she rubbed her trembling hands together quickly, trying to create friction between the chilled digits. She'd have to remember to get firewood while she went traipsing about the fortress.

She hurried out of bed and dressed with the last of the fire's light. Shadows outlining her form danced across the stone exotically, almost seeming to come alive as they grew and shrank at every moment. She fiddled with the last of the laces on her top for longer than necessary before she grew aggravated and left them untied. _There's not much to see anyway, _she told herself as she looked down to the subtle swell of her breasts. _There can't be that many people milling about at this time of night_, she once again assured herself as she looked down at the golden flesh that peeked out from the chocolate-colored top. She wasn't all together comfortable with showing any traces of her battle-worn skin but fatigue won over embarrassment this night.

A faint rumble of thunder was enough to send her on her way. She shut the door to her room quietly behind of her and surveyed the hallway with a questioning glance. It seems she was right. The hallway held little movement besides the small flicker of a nearby torch. She heaved a sigh of relief and made her way down a few flight of stairs. She encountered little signs of life beyond the far off echo of footsteps and hushed chatter in closed off rooms.

She rounded the corner and found the library uncommonly empty although a fire burned and crackled with renewed life in the small hearth. She lifted a dark brow curiously and stepped inside the room to investigate further. She ducked behind and around numerous bookcases with that strange cat-like grace she often possessed. Her search proved futile, however, and soon she made her way through the empty room and back to the small hearth that crackled with inviting warmth.

She sat in the chair closest to the fire to allow some warmth to creep over her chilly flesh. She sat completely still for a moment, her head cocked slightly to the side as she tried to listen for any remnants of the storm in the windowless room. She held her breath as the hiss of dying firewood filled her ears and then the smallest of rumbles caught her attention. She exhaled. Thankfully, the library was located in the middle of the building with plenty of stone around and above her to keep the sounds of the storm at bay.

As she sat in the empty room, she idly entertained the idea of curling up in the chair with a warm blanket and a good book. Her hand lazily moved from the chair to the small table beside of her. Perhaps even a warm cup of spiced cider would lull her senses into a desired state of sleep…

Her head jerked quickly to the side as a loud thump snapped her back to reality. She looked around herself to make sure she wasn't being watched and to make sure it wasn't someone else who had made the sound. She watched the door with half-lidded eyes for a few more moments to make sure no one was drawn by the sound. If anyone had taken note they certainly didn't care enough to come look. Satisfied, she turned back around in her chair and looked down to the ground beside of her.

Her lips twisted in uncertainty as she bent down to look at a pea green tome that lay strewn out on the floor. She must have knocked it down accidentally when she wasn't looking. Her fingers grasped at the soft fabric of the exterior for a hesitant pause before she picked it up from the stone. A piece of metal caught her attention as it sparkled in the fire's glow. Her nimble fingers went to pick that up too, carefully, before inspecting it with a critical eye. It seemed to be a lock of some sort and as she looked back to the book, she derived a conclusion. The lock was made for the book now spread open and inviting in her hand. This obviously meant that the writer wished for some sort of privacy, didn't it?

Elaan's lips curled into an almost roguish smirk. _Somehow,_ the lock was no longer attached; and _somehow_ the book had opened on its own accord and was taunting her…no _begging_ her to read the contents within. She concluded it had been the will of The Maker that she would so happen to stumble upon this very room, on this very book, on this very night. The smirk adorning her lips grew a little wider. After all…curiosity had killed _much, _much more than the cat if previous experiences were any indication on the matter.

Her sapphire eyes turned upon the pages then and she began the dangerous journey of lurking into another's thoughts. The page she was on currently held nothing of interest to her. It was of previous duties and complaints of stale bread but the signature at the bottom left little curiosity as to whom the journal belonged. His name was Ashan and he was well known for being a formidable warrior on the battlefield. Although he was exceptionally articulate and intelligent, almost _too _intelligent, he usually kept quiet and to himself. He was also human but that did little to suppress the fact that she found him somewhat handsome. She flipped a few pages over and began to read again. Her eyes narrowed as her gaze fell on her name. _This should prove at least mildly interesting, _she thought as she wiggled down into the chair.

_Meeting Elaan for the first time has left little doubt as to why she is described so…differently by so many people. I've heard the terms awkward, beautiful, cunning, different, endearing, feral, heroic. What do I think of her? I think each word fits in its own certain way __**but**__-_

"Enjoying a good read, are you?" Warm breath and whispered words tickled at her pointed ear as she looked up from the book. She tried not to look too surprised by the fact that someone had managed to sneak up on her so quietly. She snapped the book shut and turned to look at Ashan calmly, although the tips of her ears burned with untold shame. His emerald eyes neutrally washed over her features for a flicker of a moment before he straightened and jabbed a few fingers into his thick, but short, golden locks.

"I found it on the floor." She announced as she handed the book and broken lock to him. She knew how horrible that must have sounded, how terrible the whole scene must have looked; but she wasn't lying. Merely bending words and leaving things out to form the situation in her favor.

Ashan's brows rose in a curious expression as he took back his journal and merely shook his head. "And I'm sure the book miraculously jumped from the floor into your lap and the pages magically flipped to an account of you for you to so conveniently read." Although he taunted her, his voice held a lack of disdain. He only sounded…amused.

A flush rose from her neck as she looked away from him and when it began to creep into her cheeks to singe them a lovely red she stood politely from her chair. "I suppose the hour is late. I should be getting some rest."

"A fair night to you then, fellow Warden." He tipped his head in farewell to her and then ignored her presence. On her way out the door, he stopped her one last time. "Oh, and Lady Warden?" He turned from his chair to look at the back of her small form. "I suppose this means that you are now somehow indebted to me, does it not?" He paused a moment longer as his lips set into a thin line before his deep voice reverberated throughout the quiet room again. "While I was out I heard that we've a visitor...a few visitors; perhaps one that you'd be particularly interested in seeing even if it is late. I saw them bustling about in the audience chamber."

She gave no answer to his quip as she excused herself and hurried from the room. She stood a few paces away from the door before she allowed herself to breath easily again. She'd fought countless malevolent beasts and demons, numerous darkspawn, and slain an archdemon to boot. Yet, she could barely handle social encounters with the same grace and ease that she did with a blade. _Awkward indeed_, she chastised herself as she made her way to the audience chamber.

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The lonely echo of her footsteps slowly began to give way to excited chattering. The closer she got to the hall, the more restless and curious she grew. She could see that the door to the chamber had been left carelessly open so that any bystander could overhear the conversation coming from the room. She scurried up to the side of the door and with a tilt of her head she gave her full attention to the men and women on the other side of the door, trying to recognize any of the voices.

"Perhaps it was a bit out of the way, but I figured we were all tired of looking like drowned rats…" A soft laugh bellowed from the stranger after he spoke.

Elaan's eyes narrowed into tiny slits. That voice…that laughter. It seemed so strange and yet so familiar; like she was merely hearing things from her past and the tendrils of fatigue wove too tightly around her memories to try and recover a ghostly face or name.

"Maybe I could get you a bit of spiced cider or maybe some warm tea to stave off the chill of the cold, your ma--" A younger woman cooed before she was cut off by the same voice. Elaan knew the tone of the youthful female. It was Eva, the busty and fiery-haired chambermaid that had been hired not too long ago.

A deafening ring of thunder gave way overhead as Elaan carefully peeked through the doorway. Her brows knit in silent confusion as a small company of royal militia and a golden armored man stood with their backs facing her on the other side of the room. They looked completely soaked from head to toe, and each one was accumulating a small puddle of liquid beneath his feet.

She shook her head and stood full view in the doorway, going to lean against one of the posts with her arms and feet crossed. As soon as she had made herself known Eva pointed a finger in her direction, almost begrudgingly, and said something to the man in the golden armor.

That was when the man with the immaculate armor quickly turned around to face her; that was when his guards parted for them to gaze upon one another; that was when her heart leapt to her throat and threatened to spew forth. That was when she stopped breathing, and that was when her world came crashing down.

She pushed herself from the wall and quickly gave a small flourish of a bow. His flattering smile reached her bewildered gaze, but she kept her other features completely stoic and unreadable. She surprised even herself when her voice came out void of any emotion. The tone still held an edge to it however, like the biting kiss of cool steel across skin.

"Your majesty."


End file.
